Act I, Scene I: The drawing room at Chequers, decorated for Christmas

The Smiths' What Difference Does it Make? is playing loudly. Danny Alexander, in a janitor's coat, is cleaning the grate. Samantha Cameron is at a desk, writing. Cameron and Jeremy Clarkson burst in, carrying guns. Dead game dangles from their belts. They talk over one another.

Clarkson:(Indicating the music) Freaking mental! (He jumps on a table and starts playing air-guitar on his shotgun) Bags I be Morrissey! Aaah ooh.

Samantha:(Sulkily) Oh babes, please. We still totally owe Rebekah from last year, and Elisabeth from the summer and James will be so hurt? I mean (lifts trouser to show the non-dolphin ankle), you're the one who made me have the currant bun tattoo?

Clarkson: Trust the Clarksonator, no one will know. Anyway, who else would you ask?

Cameron: Um. Let me think. Hilto? (The others groan) The Goveys? (Groans) Tracey? (Clarkson groans) Tony? (Clarkson drops to the floor) Actually I happen to think he is a genius. Any decent friends of Clegg's we haven't nicked? Jeremy, get Coulson to check. Alex James totally loves us. And ask the Mumfords, I want Marcus's autograph. But NO Murdochs.

Samantha:(Writing) Brilliant, so that's the Firths, the Bonham Carters, Mummy obvs, plus the Top Gear boys, Mary Portas – do you want any of the girls?

Cameron:(Exchanges vomit faces with Clarkson) Babes, you SERIOUSLY have to ask? Can you honestly see Theresa and Caroline in the same room as Helena Bonham Carter? No freaking way, man – Cameron's phone interrupts, with a Smiths' This Charming Man ringtone. The others make faces as he speaks to Clegg.

Cameron:(Placing his foot on Alexander's neck) We are going to trust you with something special, aren't we Jeremy?

Clarkson: Indeed.

Cameron: You are going to take this list and invite everyone on it but ...

Clarkson: BUT ...

Cameron: It is TOP SECRET. If you tell anyone I will personally … (pauses) I will put you in charge of the big society.

Alexander: No sir, please sir, I beg you, not that, anything but that!

Cameron:(Gives him the list) Now get on with it, you horrible little Lib Dem, or Clarkson will hit you.

Alexander: But – sir – where will I find the addresses?

Cameron: Oh look in the local library, you clown.

Alexander: But you've closed it sir! And what about stamps?

Cameron: The village Post Off – well, how should I know – Boden? – ask Portas for God's sake, now GO!

Exit Alexander, chased by Clarkson.

Cameron: Happy now babes? On a scale of one to ten?

Samantha holds her wrist to a large happiness monitoring device.

Samantha: Eight point five. I'd be totally happy if I had a new kitchen.

Cameron: Babes, 'course you can have a new kitchen – because...

They chorus

Samantha: I'm worth it!

Cameron: You're worth it! (Musingly) God, how great is that ad?

Samantha: Yay! (Claps her hands) I'm getting a new kitchen! And a holiday?

Cameron: Well only a little one, babes, OK, some serious hardship around.

Samantha:(Sighs deeply) I know. Babes, do you mind if your field is only quite small this year?

Cameron: Whatever babes, you know me, keep it simple. Just so long as we can't see any pylons or buildings or roads or windfarms or high speed rail-links, I'm happy.

Samantha puts the Smiths back on.

Cameron:(Going to the door and shouting) Danny! Call Johnny Marr and say I'm playing him again, loserrr!

Curtain.

'I'm going to his party anyway, whether he wants me to or not'

Act I, scene II: Nick Clegg's office

Clegg: (Singing, while exercising on rowing machine) How deep is your love/I really need to learn/Cause we're living in a world of fools/Breaking us down/When they all should let us be/We belong to you and me...

Clegg: Don't be ridiculous, Vince. No, it's something far more important that. I just overheard Hilto saying Dave was going to have a Christmas party after all. I'm so excited. What do you think I should wear?

Cable: Er ...

Clegg: How about my M&S suit? It's from the Italian couture range. Miriam says I look almost like a proper politician in it.

Cable: Er ...

Clegg: Or how about something more Clarkson? It could be a very casual, Chipping Norton set do. Where do you reckon is the best place to buy some high-waisted Levi's?

Cable: Er ...

Clegg: Come on, Vincey baby. You're the business secretary, you must know somewhere. Not every clothes shop can have gone bust in the recession.

Cable: Er ...

Clegg: Oh, sorry. I shouldn't have asked. For a moment, I forgot you weren't going to be on the guest list. That was terribly insensitive of me. So tell me what you're up to? Have you got any parties planned?

Cable: Nothing yet. Though the two girlies from the Telegraph did promise to take me for a night out clubbing, so I've kept the whole of next week clear for when they get in touch. It would be such a nuisance to find myself with a prior engagement.

Huhne: I don't know! I've never found it that hard to be in two places at the same time. Or so my wife used to say!

Clegg: And what about you, Danny? You've been keeping awfully quiet. Are you going anywhere for Christmas?

Alexander: (Prevaricating) Oh no. Just staying in with the family. It's all a bit boring, actually.

Clegg: That doesn't sound much fun. You can always come over to my house on Boxing Day. We could play Call of Duty on the Xbox if Miriam will let us.

Alexander: Um, er, I don't think I can make it. We're busy that day.

Clegg: How come? You just said you weren't doing anything.

Alexander: Yes, well it must have slipped my mind. Probably because it's so dull! I wish you had invited me earlier because then I would have been able to turn it down.

Alexander: Thing is, Nick. I don't think you are going to be invited this year. It's just a very small party, austerity times and all that, and Dave can only have 300 of his closest chums...

Clegg: (Sobbing) I'm bitterly disappointed. Yet again. I love that man so much. I've given up my career for him. And this is how he repays me...

Alexander: I know. It's tough. But he still adores you really. He told me himself that he'd invite you over in the summer to watch the opening ceremony of the Olympics on the TV. He said it would be almost as good as being there with him.

Clegg: (Singing tunelessly) All by myself/Don't wanna be/ All by myself.

Lights fade to curtain.

Under surveillance … Chequers, Hugh Grant's kitchen, Simon Cowell's house and the Clegg home

Act II, scene I: Murdoch Centre, Chipping Norton area

Dedicated to advanced surveillance, the windowless room has one wall covered with multiple screens, each recording events in a variety of political and celebrity locations – Chequers, the Clegg home, Simon Cowell's house, Hugh Grant's kitchen, etc. The screens occasionally flick to another location.

Watching them keenly, from a large console/desk, is Andy Coulson.

Enter Rebekah Brooks. She is in a hurry.

Rebekah: You're sure? They're really having one without us?

Enter, immediately behind her, Elisabeth Murdoch and Matthew Freud.

Elisabeth: Outrageous, I don't believe it! (She rips a showy white bag from her shoulder and throws it to the ground) I'm never using that tote again.

Coulson: Clarkson tip-off – there's no doubt. Look. (He clicks the remote, turns up the sound, and one screen begins to play the moment from Act One, where Cameron says "no Murdochs".)

Rebekah: Bastards. Remember at mine, last year? (Puts on satirical posh voice) Oh, darling, this is just the best Christmas EVAH, totes a date with us next year. (Back to normal voice) Have you told James?

Coulson: On screen one, now. (James Murdoch's face appears on a screen) James, can you hear us? Do you remember them saying we were definitely invited?

James: (Robotically) I'm afraid I don't recall.

Elisabeth: Look it doesn't matter what he thinks – switch him off, Coulson!

Coulson does, and the screen switches to another scene.

Freud: God, is that really Hugh Grant? What the hell is he doing with that alsatian?

Coulson: (Curtly) The usual. Look, I don't give a toss about the party. I have to get in to fix the bathroom camera – it hasn't recorded anything for six months.

Freud: (Taking out chequebook) So how much do they want? Party or personal account? Or do they want a sleb? They could have Mandelson? OK, Lily Allen?

Elisabeth: Darling, no need. (To Coulson) So what do we have on them?

Coulson: (Sniggering) Well, quite a bit – have a look (flourishes stack of photographs). OK, so – how about this one, with the inflatables?

Rebekah: Alison Jackson, eat your heart out.

They all fall about laughing.

Coulson: (Showing other photographs) Or this? Or this? Or this, of Madam with the sausages, plus Alex James and the Clarksonator?

Act II, scene II: The Cameron's country house, Boxing Day

Samantha: Chill, babes. You've got to watch this. It's hilair. Celebrity Come Shag With Me. It's such a shame the Clarksonator had to pull out, but Boris has just been given a zero by Pippa Middleton ...

Cameron: At least there's one woman he hasn't got pregnant then ...

Samantha: I wouldn't count on it. He got a 10 from Sally Bercow.

The doorbell rings.

Samantha: Oh bugger. Go and answer it, Dave.

Cameron: No need. I've bunged Danny Alexander a tenner to do the door, and he's promised to throw in a few members of his private office to serve the drinks.

Samantha: Really? Not a load of disgusting hippies, I hope. Jeremy will have a field day ...

Cameron: Definitely not. Hilto made sure about that. Though there may be a black one as it will look better for the diversity stats if the press ever get wind we've had a party.

Coulson: (Hiding under the sofa) I heard that ...

James Murdoch: I didn't. I've never heard a thing about anything, but if I had done I would most certainly have done something about it.

Venezuelan ambassador: Good evening to you, Mr Cameron. May I ask if Mr Hague is here?

Cameron: Good lord, no! I expect he's oop north somewhere playing with ferrets.

Venezuelan ambassador: Well, when you do see him, could you ask him to stop threatening to bomb my country?

Nick Clegg appears outside the drawing-room window. He taps gently on the glass.

Clegg: Pssst, Danny!

Alexander pretends not to hear him.

Clegg: (Louder) Pssssssssst. Let me in.

Alexander: You're far too early.

Clegg: I don't care. Did you check to see if there was a present for me under the tree?

Alexander: No. Just bugger off and hide for a bit longer.

Samantha finally makes an appearance.

Samantha: Soz, everyone. Celebrity Come Shag With Me, it was just, like, so totes amazing. You'll never guess who won? Prince Harry! Rupert, you are literally a farking genius! Sky is bound to top the Christmas TV ratings this year.

Rupert: Fair dinkum, Sam. Very nice of you to say so ...

Samantha: And I was like thinking, yah, that it would be really, really amazing to make a reality show out of Rebekah's baby thingy with viewers being able to vote for who they think is the surrogate Yummy Mummy. I'd so want to see that. Dave's convinced it must be Louise Mensch!

Rebekah Brooks: (Sobbing) How dare you! I can't believe you could be so disgusting! That is just such a total invasion of my privacy!

Coulson: (Still under the sofa) I heard that too.

Clarkson: Well, I think it sounds a bloody brilliant idea, Sam. We could get the dwarf Hammond to present it from inside the womb.

Samantha: And Ricky Gervais could throw him in there. Thanks, Clarksonator. Could I have a mince pie?

Clarkson knocks the table over. All the food goes on the floor. He lies on the ground and throws a mince pie at Samantha. She starts laughing and throws it back. Clarkson ducks, and it hits Rupert Murdoch in the face.

Clarkson: Whose orders? Comrade Stalin? You're just a workshy communist going on strike. Well let me show you how we deal with striking Trots over here. (He walks over to Cameron's gun cabinet, removes a 12-bore and executes the waiter.) Shame your family couldn't be here, too.

Clegg appears again outside the window. He taps more loudly than before.

Clegg: Danny! Danny! Let me in now.

Cameron nods to Alexander, who opens the window.

Cameron: Ah, there you are at last, Cleggster! Good to see you. I'm so sorry Danny gave you the wrong time, but better late than never. And while I'm about it, I'd better give you your Christmas present.

Cameron takes the smoking gun from Clarkson and gives it to Clegg.

Nick Clegg gets caught with a smoking gun

Clegg: Oh, thank you so much. I hope Miriam will let me play with it. What did I tell you, Danny? I knew Dave wouldn't forget me!

A siren sounds outside in the drive and moments later four policemen surround Clegg. Cameron leads the entire cast in a rousing final chorus.

Everyone: Happiness, happiness, the greatest gift that I possess/I thank the Lord that I've been blessed/With more than my share of happiness.